


Debate

by boomsherlocka



Series: Alternate Meetings [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:08:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomsherlocka/pseuds/boomsherlocka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock meet in school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Debate

“We need someone like him, John, and that’s the end of it,” Mr McGrew said, looking at John over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “Just go talk to him. You’re the captain, and he’d be a fantastic addition to the debate team.”

John wanted to argue. Again. Mr McGrew has listened to all of his arguments against approaching Sherlock Holmes with a bemused smile but pressed on, insisting that the tall, intimidating boy with wild hair and a tongue as sharp as his gaze would be just what their team needed.

John steeled himself as he repacked his book bag. Sherlock was sitting in the back of the classroom, his nose buried in a thick book that appeared to be written in Latin. He seemed to not have noticed that the bell had dismissed them for the day, and John cleared his throat in a feeble attempt to get his attention.

It didn’t work. Sherlock Holmes just turned a page in his book.

John sighed but pressed on. He had promised Mr McGrew. “Um, you’re Sherlock Holmes, aren’t you?” John asked. He did not recognize the sound of his own voice, which was tight and rather unimpressive to his own ear.

Sherlock lifted his gaze for a brief moment before returning it to his book. “I’m not interested.”

John took a deep breath and forced a smile. “You don’t even know what…”

“I do,” Sherlock drawled. “I have no interest in being a member of the ridiculous debate team. I am far too busy with my obligations to the orchestra and my independent study opportunities. Mr McGrew fancies himself quite clever, but you can tell him that I do not need a babysitter or his encouragement.”

John spluttered a bit. “Most people would be proud a teacher is taking an interest in them.”

Sherlock snapped his book closed, checking his wrist watch with a sigh. “Yes, well, I am not most students. Nor am I interested in following in the footsteps of my brother, the pompous bag of excrement.”

John’s eyes widened a bit in recognition. “Wait, your brother is Mycroft. He’s a legend.”

“In his own mind at the very least,” Sherlock muttered as he packed his own satchel with his books. “How on earth did you manage to be the captain of the team? You find it nearly impossible to keep your emotions in check during competitions. It’s nauseating.”

John felt his cheeks heat a bit and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “I like it. I don’t know. There are rules to follow. Arguments will always go the way you mean them to. It’s not like that in real life, you know? And I don’t go for the low blow. I inject enough emotion for the judges to know that I care about what I’m doing. That I’m not just going through the motions.”

Sherlock sniffed. “Yes, well, that’s what we’re all doing. Every day. Nothing you say matters or changes anything at all, you know. In the end, we all lose. We die.”

John stared at the tall boy for a moment before he broke out into laughter. “You’re a stunning ray of sunshine, aren’t you? I’m John Watson, by the way.”

“I know who you are,” Sherlock said with a confused little frown. “Your surname is on the back of most of the clothing you wear. Captain of the debate team and rugby club. College bound and going to change the world when you join the army and go to medical school. Am I wrong?”

John’s smile widened a bit. “Not in the slightest. That’s…that’s amazing. How do you know all that?”

Sherlock shrugged. “I observed it. I pay attention, unlike everyone else at this godforsaken school.”

John snatched Sherlock’s satchel from his hand. For a moment it looked like Sherlock was going to snatch it back like he always did when the bullies from the football team would attempt to rile up an emotional response from him. Instead he shrugged on his coat, pulling a scarf from the pocket before draping it around his neck. “So,” John said as he shouldered Sherlock’s bag with his. “Want to get coffee? Or something to eat? I could definitely eat.”

Sherlock looked into John Watson’s earnest blue eyes, seeing nothing there but hope.

They left together, and next day Sherlock Holmes joined the debate team.


End file.
